A Wolf's Call
by DarkTyrant
Summary: Adam, a muggle, tries to find closure after his brother's death and has an unlucky run-in with Fenrir. Now Fenrir won't leave him alone...and other werewolves are after him. Set sometime after the sixth book. SLASH. BEWARE.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its wonderful universe do not belong to me, everything else is MINE though.

Also, I'm a bit rusty with writing and I really, really need a beta.

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"Adam, it's been four years; he's gone, he's not coming back. You'll be much happier as soon as you realize that," declared Brent rather thoughtlessly. Adam just glared; he did_ accept_ Nathan's death. He knew Nathan couldn't come back anymore than his dead mother. It's just...it's just he couldn't forgive Nathan-not for the way he ran off and got himself killed-but he also couldn't blame Brent for not understanding. Brent led a charmed life, never experienced lost. Four years isa _long_ time, though, long enough time to stop obsessively thinking of someone who had no hope of returning. But he couldn't stop. Taking another swig of his booze, Brent asked, "Anyways, what did you do to piss off your old man this time?"

"Hell if I know! I didn't do anything, not this time! I walk in and all of a sudden I'm on the ground with a jarring pain in my head. I try to get up, and he takes another swing. Then he walks off, without saying a word. He gets in these moods, you know, where he just sits there brooding and drinking for days...." Since Nathan's death, Adam usually would have to goad his father into showing any kind of emotion. At first, he would try to console his father, help around the house, even joined in his drinking habits, but he only ever received an apathetic look in return. He tried to hide his father's beer, next, and destroyed all his cigars, but Adam was convinced his father wasn't even aware he did anything at all. His father just bought more anyways, and Adam stopped soon after that.

One day, though, he came home surprised to see his father livid, ranting and yelling about how much _better_ Nathan was, how Nathan was the _good_ son. He wasn't surprise at what his father was saying so much as that he was lively. He found out shortly afterwards that his English teacher had called his dad to discuss his failing grades. After that, Adam knew if he himself couldn't bring his father out of that horrible lifeless, lethargic state, someone else could. He did everything from committing petty crimes, starting school fights, to failing a class or two, just so someone would inform his father. His father would get enraged, yes, but anything was better than seeing him detached; dead to the world.

Not mentioning any of this, Adam went on to say "Then out of the blue he'll go off on some tangent about how horrible his life is…how horrible I am. Sometimes he gets…violent. I guess this is one of those times," shrugged Adam. It didn't matter, not really. It wasn't the drinking that bother Adam, or the yelling, or even when his father knocked him around a bit; it was his father's inattentiveness, his utter negligence. Hell, Adam couldn't even provoke him himself, he had to involve someone else.

This was the way his father for as long as he could remember; his father never really paid any attention to Adam unless he was saying a derogatory remark or when Nathan was around. Nathan, though, his father loved. "Nathan…he was always dad's favorite...he, well, he could say one sarcastic remark, smile even, and dad would just laugh and forget about whatever was bothering him at the time. He could actually be decent to me when Nathan was around. Now my dad can't even look at me. I think he blames me."

"Why the hell would he blame you? I'm not going to lie; your dad needs some serious help. Now, let me take a look at your black eye." Without warning, Brent grasped Adam's chin and pulled it towards him. "Ooooouch, it looks pretty bad. Are you sure you have enough ice?" Adam abruptly knocks Brent's hand away; he hates when people touch him, especially his face. Brent, though, doesn't comment on his behavior, just looks at him searchingly.

"Pfff, I don't need ice…it's not even that bad. I suffered much worse." With that proudly said, Adam chucked the ice into the river flowing beside them. It was true though, Adam had suffered much. Not a day went by where he didn't get into a fight. Back in the day, he would often get the shit beaten out of him, but that was long ago. Nowadays it was him who did the ass-kicking.

But that didn't stop Brent from clutching Adam's shoulders and saying, "Listen here, if your old man hits you once more without provocation, just once, you come to me. Got it? You understand, you come to me!" The passion that Brent spoke with stunned Adam somewhat. Brent always hated taking responsibility; he was, however, always protective of Adam. He was about five years older and saw Adam as a younger brother. Despite all that, by tomorrow he would likely forget the conversation. Not that Adam minded, to him it was just another charming aspect of Brent; you just couldn't talk to Brent when he was drunk.

The two of them sat on a river bank facing the sunset, and as the sun slowly descended, the chill of the night crept onto them. There was a moment of silence as they listened to the crickets chirp and the birds sing good-night to each other. On the distant riverbank, they could see the flashes of the lighting bugs as they dance to their own tune. Between them laid multiple empty beer bottles, but that was ok because they had plenty more to go. Deep in the woods to the east, you could hear the howls of the wolves. Adam shivered, the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge. He didn't know why, but the eerie sound of a wolf's howl made him feel strangely. He couldn't describe it, only that it was odd, that it made him feel sort of restless and eager. Shaking his head, he tried to forget the feeling. He went on to say, "But seriously, I need you to take my shift tomorrow. The Tyrant isn't going to be there and I doubt anyone will say anything because, you know, everyone hates Jacob. Just this once! C'mon, you know I'll do the same for you."

The Tyrant, as Jacob was dubbed, was the current manager of Wolf's Lair, a quaint diner on the outskirts of town. He believed in a time reminiscent of Laissez Faire and so worked his subordinates to the bone. He treated his employees poorly and afforded them little respect; only ever giving them the bare minimum. He showed as much understanding as a brick wall to his staff's needs, and there was no such thing as a pay raise when working under Jacob. People only worked for him when they had no other choice, but they never stayed for too long. He was hardest on Adam not only because he knew Adam would stay no matter what but because he was jealous of him. Adam, when he turns eighteen, will inherit Wolf's Lair, and so take the only job Jacob loved. Jacob hated him for that.

Wolf's Lair, his parent's dream, and Adam's perpetual nightmare, was founded by his parents over twenty years ago. Established at the beginning of his parent's marriage, it become hugely successful after Nathan's birth. It was mere coincidence that the wolves' population increased drastically around that time, and that the people came to view the diner as some sort of lucky charm, an omen of good luck. Wolves were oddly revered in the town, and for awhile they were in danger of dying out all together, and so it with was pure brilliancy and luck of his parents to name it after them. And even when his mother left shortly after Adam was born for another man, his father still continued on in the hopes that she would come back to him and their dream. The business did suffer during that time. After his mother died, his father lost all motivation to continue the business, to continue doing anything at all. Nathan, old enough to take up the reins, did so. And he was good at it; the business bloomed again under his leadership. In two years, Nathan brought the Wolf's Lair back to its former glory. And then he died.

When Nathan died, everything changed for Adam. His father had no desire to continue his business, to even work for a living. Left with a deadweight father, and the fact that the proceeds from the diner that they were guaranteed weren't cutting it, Adam had no choice but to work in order to survive. Jacob, knowing Adam's situation, allowed Adam to work for him. Adam was only thirteen at the time, a minor, and Jacob gladly took advantage of that fact. That was four years ago.

"Of course I'll do it. What time do you work? Oh yeah, six o'clock." Brent swiftly set the alarm to five o'clock on his cell-phone. "Alright, since I have to get up early tomorrow, I might as well leave now." Brent raised his arms up into a hearty stretch and stood up. He lowered a hand to Adam and lifted him up. He noticed that Adam was almost as tall as him now, not that he was tall himself. He would guess Adam was about 5'7 or so, and rather lanky. Brent was proud of how muscular he himself was, especially his biceps. He worked hard for it damnit.

Looking closer at Adam, Brent could safely say Adam didn't look a thing like Nathan. Nathan took after his dad, and was tall and muscular. From what Brent remembered, Nathan was quite handsome and popular with the ladies, with shining blonde hair that was always gelled neatly back. The most distinctive feature of Nathan were his eyes, one was dark green and the other a warm brown. Adam on the other hand had messy jet-black hair that contrasted beautifully with his pale skin. He had his father's eyes, a steel gray-bluish color. Unlike his father, Adam's eyes were lively and willful, and often betrayed him when he wanted to hide his emotions. Right now, though, his face was covered partly in shadow and he couldn't see his eyes. But he imagined they were turbulent.

"Adam, I still don't understand why you would want to go back there though. Nathan's dead, and going back there won't change that. Nor will it make things better."

"I know. Believe me, I know. I just need to be alone and, I don't know, I just feel like need to go there." It was, after all, a week ago four years ago that Nathan died. Brent of course didn't remember that part. Adam didn't really understand why he had to back to the place Nathan died only that he wanted, no needed, closure. He hadn't been there since Nathan died and felt he owed it a visit.

"Argh, I can't find my car keys." Brent started rummaging around for his car keys, "Kid, you want me to drive you home? I haven't drunk that much, I swear!"

"Um…no. It's only two miles away and I feel like running anyways." That much was true. More than anything else, Adam loved to run. Plus, he still felt on edge from the wolves' howling.

"Smart kid, you make me proud. Sort of. You kinda make me feel old too. Ah, there they are." Brent finally found his keys, but he still lingered around, restless. Adam didn't have to wait long to find out why. "You know, forget what I said about your dad. _You_ need help. You obviously can't accept Nathan's death. And I hate how you casually accept that your old man beats you. You don't take shit from nobody. Nobody! Why him? He never did a damn thing for you. You can turn him in, totally screw him over. But you don't. Why?"

Thinking for a moment, Adam simply said, "Because he's the only family I have."


	2. Chapter 2

Noticing that Brent still didn't understand, or care, Adam continued on, "Look, I never had the chance to know my mom, and my brother is gone. As far as I know, my mom has no brothers or sisters, and both of her parents are dead as well. At least, that's what my dad told me. His side of the family wants nothing to do with us because apparently they're still angry over my dad's decision to marry my mom. And as much as I hate him, my dad is all I have left."

Brent opened his mouth, and then shut it. He had nothing to say to that. "Fine, whatever. Keep your misplace loyalty, but if you ever change your mind, you know where I'll be. Anyways, since you're stupid enough to go out in the woods alone, I think you should take this. You still hear stories of wolves attacking people, after all." Brent slowly pulled out a gun from the inside pocket of his trench coat and handed it to Adam. "This is my pride and joy, so don't lose it. And don't you dare get caught with it!"

"Pfff, wolves attacking people isn't as common as you think, you know."

"Yeah, and I'm sure your brother said the same."

Pausing for a second, contemplating the truth of Brent's words, he said, "But I'll keep it just in case."

"Yeah, you do that. I'm taking the rest of the beer, kid." With that, Brent hauled up what was left of the twelve-pack and stumbled away. Looking back, he said in all seriousness, "Don't turn out like your brother, Adam Callaghan," and then walked on.

Adam waited until shadows of the night embraced Brent before heading off in the opposite direction. He could hear Brent softly whistling a song that sounded suspiciously like the Jeopardy tune, although he couldn't be sure with Brent's atrocious whistling skill. Mirroring Brent, Adam unconsciously began to hum as he easily fell into the rhythm of running. He followed along the river for awhile before turning on a pathway that would lead him into town. It didn't take long for him to speed up to a pace just below a sprint. Oh, how he loved to run, the familiar burn of it. It calmed him down tremendously, enough to where he could think straight. One thought stuck in his mind more than anything else.

_Don't turn out like your brother, Adam._

Very wise advice, considering. Four years ago, a pack of savage wolves killed his brother, who was partying at a bonfire at the time. Adam's brother wasn't the only one to die that night; all five of his brother's friends, including his brother's girlfriend, were also killed. The police found them a day earlier, ripped apart and partially eaten. Some of them were completely gone all together. Adam supposed that since the wolves' population escalated so quickly there wasn't enough food to feed on so the wolves had to resort to feasting on humans.

He remembered so clearly that night four years ago when he got the call saying his brother dead. He didn't believe it at first, couldn't have believed it until he saw the body. But he was refused even that for all that remained from his brother was a hand. He may have been able to deny it was his brother's hand, deny that he was dead, but the Japanese symbol on his brother's wrist proved otherwise. The DNA tests only confirmed what was already apparent. His brother was dead.

He knew he should be glad the police found something; some of the other families didn't even have that much to comfort them. They never did find the rest of his brother's body and Adam often wondered what happened to it. The police speculated that the wolves either ate it completely or hid it in the melting snow. Either way, he distinctly remembered the huge snow storm that came later that day, and with it, destroyed all hopes of tracking his brother's body down.

Most of all, he remembered the night before his brother died, the last time he saw him. They were bickering over some trivial matter that shouldn't have escalated into the fight it did. God, the argument was so insignificant he couldn't even remember what it was about. And the words he said to Nathan, words he could never take back, that led Nathan into joining his friends at the bonfire…god, he didn't want to think about that now.

Speeding up to a full-blown sprint, pushing himself to the limit, he raced his way back home. When he ran like this, nothing important mattered-all that mattered was keeping his breathing steady and strong, swinging his arms rapidly back and forth, and widening his stride to the maximum. His mind completely cleared in moments.

Finally, he reached his home, fully winded. The words Wolf's Lair stood out brilliantly in the twilight hours like a guide of light to lost travelers. Going around to the back door, he entered the building. The fresh smell of Pine-Sol swiftly infiltrated his nostrils and from the doorway on the right he could see chairs upended on square tables. Wet streaks covered the floor from where someone had just mopped, and he smiled at the thought that he wouldn't have to do it. Usually Jacob left the clean-up to him. Going on past the door, he climbed the steps to the apartment above.

As soon as he opened the door, he could strongly smell the scent of stale beer and the disgusting aroma of cigars. He was almost tempted to go back downstairs. His dad's blank eyes were glued to the television, not even acknowledging his presence. Careful to avoid broken beer bottles and cigar buds, Adam hurried quickly to his own room, and immediately crashed on his bed. Within moments he was sound asleep.

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The sun rose bright and cheery the next day. Intense sun-rays filtered through the curtains, wakening Adam. Not a morning person, he lingered in the bed for a time and then sluggishly got out of it. You could see the sinewy muscles as he stretched his long limbs over his head. Yawning, he began to hunt for a clean shirt among the clothes, clean mixed with dirty, that littered about the floor. Finding one that seemed clean enough, he donned it.

Despite how nice it looked outside, Adam grabbed his lightweight jacket, and wore it. It was still chilly in the mornings, though by midday it would warm up nicely. Exiting his room, he found his father still in front of the television, snoring softly in his sleep. His father held a beer precariously in his hand, and Adam took it. Seizing his car keys, he left the apartment, drinking the rest of the beer.

He saw Brent serving a cute couple when he went downstairs. Waving, he walked into the kitchen, and stealthily stole a bagel, and then got out of there. Tom, the cook and former marine, wasn't someone you messed around with.

The bright, morning sun practically blinded Adam on his way to the car. He kept meaning to get a pair of sunglasses, but he was lazy and procrastinated too much. Adam, like most people, only thought to get something useful only when he absolutely needed it, and if it happened to be convenient to get it. It would probably be the end of summer before he actually gets a pair.

He had to walk a block to reach his car and when he did, he leisurely started it up. It didn't take long for him to exit it the town but it would be another thirty minutes before he reached the forest where his brother once hosted bonfires, parties, and all kinds of fun. The forest that was his brother's final resting place.

Thirty-some minutes later, he parked in a clearing a few meters away from the highway. Surrounding him on all three sides were trees, huge and ancient. In between the trees laid a trail that led up to the glade where the youth of the town frequently held keg parties and bonfires. At least, back before the wolves killed six people. His hasn't heard of anyone coming up here since then.

The glade was a couple miles inward and Adam determinedly trudged his way on through the forest. Isolated from the rest of society and so far from the highway, the glade was the perfect place for underage drinking and all kinds of debauchery. The perfect place to be killed-no one could hear cries for help.

About halfway through, Adam came upon a fence. 'What the hell, that wasn't there before,' Adam thought to himself. 'Argh, this just makes things more difficult.' He expertly climbed the fence, but sliced his leg on the jagged top in the process. 'Son of a bitch, today is not my lucky day,' Adam reflected. Ignoring the blood flow-it wasn't all that bad-he commenced with his hike.

Soon enough, he reached his destination. It was as he remembered: an immense meadow with a huge fire pit in the middle. He spent many happy nights here during the summer with Nathan, and sometimes his dad came along for the fun. First it was innocent fun, a family cookout now and then, with s'mores and brunt marshmallows. As Nathan got older, he refused to take young Adam with him but for one time. It was when Adam first turned thirteen that Nathan took him out for his first drinking experience. It wasn't a huge party, it was only Nathan, Adam, and two of Nathan's friends, but it was the most fun Adam had, the forbidden nature of it lending it an extra thrill.

Solemnly walking to the fire pit, Adam examined his surroundings. He knew they found two of the bodies, partially eaten here, a few yards from the fire pit, as though they were trying to run away in the last moments of their lives. Walking on, he saw a tree that one of the other bodies had laid near. He wondered if this particular person tried to climb the tree instead of stupidly trying to outrun a wolf. They never found any hint of the other two bodies.

Reaching the fire pit, and walking around it, Adam found the place where the police found his brother's right hand. 'Did you see them coming? Were you afraid?' Adam pondered as he kneeled down. Adam wondered if his brother thought of him at all when it happened. Probably not-what else could you think of when wolves were eating you alive other than that you were going to die. Not for the first time, he hoped his brother died quickly and painlessly.

He impulsively thought of a folklore someone once told him. That the ones we love never leave us, not totally. That they waited at the place of their death, and if one was lucky, they could communicate with their lost love ones, to say good-bye. If true, Adam wondered if Nathan would still be waiting here for him. Or would he drift away, a lost soul. Shaking his head, Adam dispelled such thoughts.

About to stand up, he spotted something that glinted in the sun. Choking a bit at the sight of it, Adam realized it was the Nathan's necklace, a special heirloom given to him by their father. The heirloom had been passed down for generations, always given to the first born son. It bore the initials MC in the middle of a Celtic five-fold symbol and it was Nathan's favorite necklace.

Adam throat tighten as his fist clenched around the heirloom. Unbidden came the idea that Nathan held it in his hand, the very same hand the police found. Perhaps, when they picked the hand up, it fell, unnoticed until now.

"You weren't supposed to die. It wasn't supposed to be like this," yelled Adam, forlorn. Memories flashed before his eyes-Nathan smiling, laughing, joking, teaching him to defend himself, comforting him. Smiling bitterly, Adam knew Nathan couldn't comfort him, protect him anymore. Once again, he felt the all-consuming emptiness of being utterly alone, emptiness that Nathan once filled. Enraged, he pounded the ground, not ceasing for a moment.

_You weren't supposed to abandon me, not like this._

After some time, he stopped, suddenly drained. "Do you know how much I _hate_ you," he asked softly, sitting back. "How much I hate myself? No, you can't know, not now, not ever." Sighing, he was about to stand up when he heard a low growl. Spinning around recklessly, his hand groping for his gun, he spotted two wolves sitting between him and the trail.

Both were huge, but the one closer was slightly larger than its companion. The bigger wolf had a beautiful salt and pepper coat, while the other one had a solid brown, and if this had been any other situation, Adam would've admired them. Both had yellowish-golden piercing eyes, but the bigger wolf's were lighter and glowed more brilliantly in the sun.

Adam backed up cautiously, showing off his gun. The bigger wolf issued out a louder growl in response, which Adam ignored. "Do you see this here?" Adam waved his gun, "Yeah, this thing can you kill you. So you stay there and I'll just leave, ok? No problems, everyone is happy, right?" Man, who has this kind of luck, thought Adam to himself. Seriously, what are the odds of two wolves wanting to kill and possibly eat him, especially after what happened to his brother? And just last night, Adam assured Brent that it was rare when wolves attacked humans. Brent would've laughed at the irony of the situation. No, no he wouldn't have.

_Don't turn out like your brother, Adam._

From the bigger wolf's mouth came out a lone howl. Instantly, Adam's heart hammered at the sound of it and he felt the all too familiar eagerness. Eager for what, he didn't know, just that he hated it because he didn't understand it.

Adam gradually circled around the two wolves towards the trail, careful to keep his distance. The wolves gazed at him warningly, but were otherwise quiet. He was almost to safety and as he glanced back up the trail, the bigger wolf pounced and pinned him to the ground. In surprised, Adam pulled the trigger…and found it was _empty_. Brent gave him an unloaded weapon! Adam quickly promised to himself that he would kill Brent if he got out of this alive. Adam immediately smashed his gun in the wolf's skull before it could kill him. The wolf retreated, growling noisily, and Adam nimbly got back on his feet, but the other wolf pinned him down again and Adam dropped the gun.

Adam could feel its claws digging into his shoulders painfully; smell its putrid breath as it lowered its jaws to his neck. He blindly felt for his gun, a lifeline, anything that could be used as a weapon. His hand closed around a stick, and Adam immediately clobbered the wolf's cranium. This time the wolf didn't retreat fully, only shook his head, and then went for Adam's neck again. Adam was ready, and somehow the stick ended up between the wolf's teeth with Adam trying to push it away. So determine was the wolf that it simply endeavored to eat through the stick instead of backing up.

Meanwhile, with a strength born from both fear and adrenaline, Adam struggled to shove the wolf off of him. Eventually he succeeded, or perhaps the wolf merely gave up, but it did withdraw. Adam leapt to his feet, breathing heavily, swinging his stick about so the wolves wouldn't be tempted to resume their attack. The wolves' ears were erect; its fur bristled, furiously snarling. Adam quickly backed up into a tree and adeptly climbed it. The bigger wolf, seeing what Adam was doing, clenched its teeth around Adam's shoe, but Adam swiftly kicked it, and continued climbing.

Adam hoped to any god that wolves couldn't climb trees as he ascended higher and higher. About half way up, he looked back down, and was amused to see that wolves couldn't climb trees all that well. That is, until he realized that they weren't leaving anytime soon. The wolves just hunkered down after too many failed attempts and stared hungrily at Adam. Adam wondered how long they could wait and if they did leave, would they be actually gone, or just be waiting to ambush Adam. He didn't have his cell-phone to call Brent either. _Why is my life so fucked up,_ Adam questioned. Five minutes later, Adam was getting seriously bored and impatient.

"You know you stupid wolves, I'm not going to come down anytime soon so you might as well just leave." The wolves snarled again, and Adam had a sneaking suspicion they understood what he was saying. But that was impossible.

"Stupid animals. Don't you understand I want to live? I'm not going to down there while you guys are there. No, that would be stupid of me and I'm not stupid...except, I'm talking to wolves as though they understand me. That's pretty stupid."

Adam stared at the wolves, they stared back. Adam quickly got bored of staring so he began to peel the bark off the tree, and then he had the brilliant idea of throwing it at the wolves. So he did. The wolves reaction was immediate and furious; growling and howling, it temporary stunned Adam, until he remember they couldn't reach him. Then he continued on, highly entertained.

"Ah ha. How do you like this? Yeah, it's annoying isn't it? You can easily solve this problem, you know; just let me go. Except you won't, will you, because you're stupid." This persisted on for awhile, Adam mocking and throwing bark, the wolves showing their displeasure. The wolves ultimately settled down again, and except for an occasional growl, they were calm. Adam became bored again from being deprived of his entertainment.

"See, now you're learning. Just don't show any reaction and I'll eventually give up," Adam announced unhappily. It was impossible to get comfortable up in the tree branch because it was so thin that Adam had to straddle it. There were also insects crawling on the tree trunk from where Adam had picked the bark off so he couldn't even lean back and rest against it either. It was a horrible position all around.

"Jeez, I'm going to die from discomfort or boredom before starvation," Adam murmured to himself. "Seriously, how do I manage to get myself in these absurd situations? This is beyond ridiculous."

Adam contemplated his options and there weren't many. He could either wait out the wolves, scare them away, fight them, or attempt to outrun them. Granted, Adam is fast, but there's no way he could possibly outrun anything with four legs. He could try fighting them, but Adam wasn't willing to try that again anytime soon. He was lucky enough as it is. It's either scaring the wolves away or waiting for them to leave. If he had his gun and it worked like it was suppose to, he could've frightened them away. But no, he couldn't be that lucky. Again, he promised himself he would kill Brent if he ever saw him again. But only after slow, very slow, torture.

He had only one choice, and Adam groaned because it was the most boring, uneventful one. Maybe he could wait until the wolves were asleep and then try to sneak away…but no, that wouldn't work either. Wolves had excellent hearing and as soon he dropped down on the ground, they would be on him in a instant. He would have to be impossibly silent in order to escape and Adam wasn't going to risk it just yet. He would have to wait until the wolves left on their own or until Brent came looking for him.

Adam was quite grateful he had work tomorrow-one of the few times he ever was- so someone would notice he was gone by tomorrow. And then people would come looking for him. Yep, he had an exciting night of boredom to look forward to, but it wasn't so bad, he was alive after all, which was more than his brother could say. It's not like he would have to wait a few days either. But in the meantime, Adam comforted himself with thoughts of revenge. Yes, Brent was going to pay, badly.

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Next chapter: Adam meets Fenrir! And thank you, Liv, for the review!

Also, who else is disappointed Susan Boyle didn't win in Britain's Got Talent?

I really need a beta. Anyone up for the job?


	3. Chapter 3

The two wolves' ears twitched, and unexpectedly they arose, alert and wary. Adam turned in the direction they were facing but saw nothing, heard nothing. Suddenly, three deafening gunshots were fired in succession and Adam almost fell from the tree in shock, but tightly grasped the branch in time. The two wolves looked back at Adam longingly one last time, seemingly debating within themselves, and reluctantly fled the scene. Adam peered in the direction the gunshots came from, wondering who his rescuer was, and soon enough a man appeared, carrying a gun. When he examined his surrounding, making sure there was no danger, he holstered his weapon.

"Jesus Christ, you could've killed me!" Adam called down as he got his first good look at the man. The first thing Adam noticed was that the man was huge, very huge, seemed to be made of pure muscle and bone. He made Brent look effeminate in comparison, and Adam was always jealous of Brent's muscle, but this man just screamed strength and power. His unusual long, silver hair gleamed in the sun and was neatly tied back; unusual because he looked too young to have silver hair, yet somehow it suited him.

The most outstanding feature though, Adam thought, were his eyes. The man's eyes were a light amber and stood out all the more because of his golden, bronze skin. Eyes that missed nothing, sharp and piercing; the eyes of a predator. They were currently studying Adam, taking in every inch, and Adam felt like a bug under a microscope.

"What is your name, boy," the man demanded abruptly, his voice deep and highly cultured. Adam detected a British accent. Interesting.

"Luke Skywalker," came Adam's flippant answer, not likely the tone the man had used. "What is yours?"

Fenrir, being a werewolf and never bothering to learn the Muggle's customs, took Adam seriously. "Fenrir."

Clearly this man had a sense of humor. "No, really, what is your real name?"

"Fenrir. Get down from that tree so I can talk to you properly." The man, Adam observed, had the arrogance of someone who wasn't used to being disobeyed, who expected absolute obedience. Not that Adam blamed him, the man was awfully intimidating. Adam, too, felt like he should obey him. Which was weird in itself; Adam hated authority and arrogance, which this man seemed to represent.

"Well Fenrir, does your father happened to be named Loki and your rival named Odin? Watch out for Vidar, he'll kill you," Adam decided to play along for now as he climbed down the tree.

The warm chuckle made Adam shiver, and so he lost his grip, falling the last few feet. Fenrir, however, steadied him, lightly holding his shoulders. "I'm impressed, Luke. It's not often that I meet someone who knows their Norse mythology."

"Alright, my real name is Adam, Adam Callaghan. Seriously, I'm curious now, what is your real name," Adam asked, backing away when Fenrir didn't immediately let him go. Fenrir towered over Adam, and again Adam felt that pull to obey his every command, which scared him. He never felt that way towards anyone.

"Fenrir Greyback is my name, boy," Fenrir replied, stepping closer to Adam, holding out a hand for Adam to shake. Way to close, Adam thought to himself. He was about to step backwards, but Fenrir gave him a challenging look, and Adam was never one to step down from a challenge. Maybe it was some British thing, standing closer then need be, presumed Adam.

"Ew, I'm sorry. You must hate your parents, eh, for giving you such a shitty name?" Adam asked, shaking the offered hand. He tried to let go quickly, but Fenrir held on. If he offended Fenrir, Fenrir gave no sign.

"Nonsense, it is, after all, appropriate," Fenrir laughed lightly, enjoying a joke only he understood.

"Riiight." Adam responded, not understanding. "Mind explaining?"

Fenrir gladly breathed Adam's scent, as Adam finally freed his hand. Underneath the revolting scent of the other wolves, the slight scent of another male, a plethora of other insubstantial aromas, the boy smelled absolutely wonderful, thought Fenrir. So innocent, so wild, untamed. A scent of a wolf. Hidden until now, and so very faint, it was there. But how? If it was for the reason Fenrir was thinking, then this boy was _special_.

And _unclaimed_.

"Did those wolves bit you?" Fenrir inquired urgently. "Scratch you?"

"No," Adam answered, confused with the sudden change of subject. Fenrir merely swept his eyes up and down Adam's smaller figure, making Adam momentarily uncomfortable.

"You're bleeding," Fenrir stated, his voice slightly hoarse. Crouching down, he ran a finger down the wound, which happened to be on Adam's thigh, as though to prove a point. He stepped closer, so close Adam could smell him. He smelled of the forest, moist earth, and of all things wild and fresh. It was an exhilarating scent, a liberating scent, though Adam staunching ignored it.

"Hey, haven't you heard of personal space," Adam demanded angrily, backing away rapidly. The nerve of this guy! "I don't know how you guys do things in Britain, but here you just can't go around touching people without their permission."

"I'll keep that in mind," Fenrir promised, amused, not at all repentant. "Again, how did you get that wound? It's very important you answer this question honestly."

"What, it's not even serious, though." Adam frankly couldn't remember how he got the wound. He didn't even notice it was there until now. Oh…right, the fence. But that was the wound on the back of his leg, the one Fenrir couldn't see. Fenrir was overly eager to hear an answer, for whatever reason, so Adam lied. "I got it when I climbed a fence," he said, averting his eyes.

"You seem unsure," observed Fenrir. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then disappointed.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm just going to leave now. Nice meeting you and all that bullshit." As Adam walked about, Fenrir clutched his arm in an iron grip, and pulled him closer. "Let go of me," Adam threaten his voice cold.

Chuckling, Fenrir responded, "Those wolves are still around, do you really want to go off on your own? To be stuck up in a tree again, like a tiny pathetic cat? Or get killed?" No, Adam didn't want any of those things to happen to him. But he didn't want to stay with Fenrir any longer either. Decisions, decisions. While Adam was deciding what to do, Fenrir inhaled Adam's scent again, practically purring in pleasure and unconsciously tightening his grip. That decided for Adam, he was getting out of here.

"What the hell? Are you sniffing me?" Adam, disgusted, attempted to once again free himself from Fenrir harsh grip.

"You smell like alcohol, boy." What better way of diverting the issue at hand than putting the other person on the defensive. "How old are you?"

"Old enough," Adam lied. _Wow, this guy has a really good nose. I drank hours ago and not even that much…he shouldn't be smelling alcohol. _

"You're lying," Fenrir said with such certainty, Adam began to wonder if he knew him from somewhere. But no, he knew of no foreigners personally. Though foreigners came into the Wolf's Lair often, Adam was certain he would've remembered Fenrir. He wasn't someone you could easily forget.

"No, I'm not," Adam steadfastly denied, refusing to break his gaze this time. Fenrir couldn't possibly know his real age. Surprising, Fenrir was the one to first break eye contact. Raising an eyebrow, he slowly raked his eyes down to Adam's stomach. What the hell? Adam, puzzled, looked down. _Fuckity, fuck, fuck. Fuck! _He was wearing his school's track shirt, and it had his name and the year on it. Improvising, he said, "That's the college I go to."

"But Lunar Light is a high school," Fenrir calmly replied, amused.

Not missing a beat, Adam said, "Well, what can I say, I'm stupid. I should've graduated high school years ago. I was too embarrassed to say it before."

Fenrir merely raised an eyebrow, as though to say "Do you really think I'm that stupid and gullible?"

"What? You can't prove that I'm lying," Adam said.

"No, but I can take you to someone who can. I'm sure the police will have fun with you," Fenrir threaten.

"The hell you can. I'm not going anywhere with you. I have rights! This is America, remember? You can't just take me to the police on suspicion alone. Anyways, my blood alcohol level isn't even high enough. You got nothing on me. Now, let me go."

Fenrir smirked arrogantly, "Oh, but I do. This is private property you're trespassing on. My property."

"What are you talking about? This is public domain."

"Am I correct that you said you cut yourself on a fence?" asked Fenrir, waiting for Adam to confirm it. Adam stayed silent, so Fenrir continued on. "That very same fence surrounds my property, anything within that fence is mine, and if I'm not mistaken, you're within the fence. So yes, you're on my property. Didn't you read the sign? In case you didn't, it said 'No trespassing, offenders will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.'"

Adam quickly racked his brain for any memories of a sign. No, he didn't remember any sign. Fenrir was obviously lying. Not that it would've made a difference, he still would've ignored it. Which is why there could've be one, thought Adam. He never noticed such things. Taking a shot in the dark, Adam said "You're lying. I saw no sign, so you're lying."

"It's quite possible there was no sign," affirmed Fenrir. "I sent Brenna to place signs on the fence where all the trails passed through, so it is feasible that she missed it or simply didn't get around to it yet." He didn't know why, but he knew Fenrir was telling the truth. He answered too quickly, too precisely.

"Well, that's on her, not me. You still got nothing on me," said Adam triumphantly.

"There you are wrong, my wayward pup." _My wayward pup? _What the hell is up with this guy, wondered Adam.

Fenrir dragged Adam to the base of the tree and picked up Brent's gun. "Do you know the penalty for carrying an unlicensed gun?" No, he didn't, not exactly, but he knew it couldn't be any good.

"That's not mine," declared Adam.

"You're right. It's not," agreed Fenrir. "But whose is it?" Adam, for once, kept his mouth shut. "Did you steal it? Or was it given to you by a friend?" Adam still kept his mouth shut. "Either way, you'll get in trouble. The question is, my pup, if a friend gave this to you, will you allow him to get into trouble as well?"

"I meant I didn't bring it with me," Adam said. "I don't know whose it is."

"Perhaps, but all will be revealed once I take you to the police," smirked Fenrir, knowing he won.

Adam couldn't argue with that logic, Fenrir was right. In spite of whatever lies he could connive, the police was trace the gun back to Brent, and then to him. Brent would be screwed. He didn't really care what happened to him. Hell, he would welcome it. But Brent was different. Despite giving minors alcohol, stealing, fighting, all around ignoring the finer points of the law, he's never actually been in trouble with it. Adam didn't want to be the one to break that admirable record. Though, it would be perfect payback for endangering his life. _Honestly, how could Brent give me an unloaded weapon_, questioned Adam.

But no, this involved Brent and Adam, and just them. Adam couldn't involve the police no matter how angry he was with Brent. Deciding he lost, he asked Fenrir, "What do you want from me?"

That was a loaded question for Fenrir, one he would gladly answer truthfully, but not yet. He didn't want to scare the boy, at least, not until the boy was fully under his authority. He could take the boy away now, _claim_ him as his, Fenrir considered, but he didn't think he could control himself around the boy. Even now, he felt like ravishing the petite form that just begged to be dominated, to replace that other male's scent with his own, too bite his slender neck. To mark him.

He hardened at the thought of it all. When the wind blew the boy's delicious scent in his face, he felt his teeth elongate as his wolf tried to gain control, the desire to ravish the boy stronger now. But he saw Adam wince, and realized that his fingernails had lengthened into claws, almost breaking the boy's skin.

No, he couldn't control himself around the boy. He couldn't risk it…not until he was certain. But how he wanted to mark the boy, to show to all the world that the boy belong to him and only him.

If he couldn't take the boy with him, he'll make sure no other werewolves take him as he waited for the opportune moment when he could claim the boy as his own. "I don't want you to go trekking through the woods by yourself. Tell me where you're car is, I'll walk you there. Unless you live so close by that you walked? I could walk you home." Adam didn't like the hopeful note in Fenrir's voice. Noticing this, Fenrir quickly said, "I'm only worried about you, those wolves will come back if you're alone. That's all I'm asking, to allow me to escort you to safety."

_That was all? He was only worried about my well-being?_ He could've asked for much worse. Adam had been expecting it, and deep down, perhaps craving it. Though, he would never admit it to himself. He was glad Fenrir was there with him because he was, in all truth, dreading walking through the woods all alone. That too, he would never admit to himself.

But first things first. "Can I have the gun back, at least?"

Fenrir looked at him briefly, aimed the gun towards the ground, and shot it. Satisfied that it was unloaded, he handed the weapon to Adam.

Bastard. He obviously doesn't trust me, thought Adam. Not that it matter. Adam didn't trust Fenrir either. He didn't trust anyone who professed to only look after his well-being.

Shrugging his shoulders, Adam led the way back to his car, missing Fenrir's feral look. Fenrir, pleased that he had a nice view of Adam's arse, happily followed. Odd because he never followed anyone; at least, not willingly. But, then again, no one had Adam's nice arse.

"Oh, and stop calling me your pet. It's really weird...and just wrong."

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AN: This is probably going to be the last time I update for awhile. I have annual training with the military for two weeks (although, if they make me guard weapons all the time, I'll have a lot of time) and then I'm going backpacking in California, so I don't know how much time I'll have to work on this. I just want you guys to know I haven't given up on it if it does take awhile for me to update. I'll probably have more time then I think, so you may see an update soon.


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh, and stop calling me your pet. It's really weird...and just wrong."

Fenrir refused to comment on that; even he could admit it would seem weird from Adam's perspective. But he loved how Adam got irritated, how his cheeks redden in anger. He imagined that's how they would look when Adam was aroused…no, he must stop those thoughts. He tried to avoid looking at Adam's delectable ass lest they come again.

The enduring silence that followed was starting to grate on Adam's nerves. So quiet were Fenrir's footsteps that Adam had trouble hearing them; he couldn't even be sure Fenrir was still behind him. Although it was hard to, he resisted the urge to look. If Fenrir decided to leave, that wasn't his problem. In fact, that was what he wanted all along. But he had to know and that meant starting a conversation. Sighing, he asked, "So, you're from Britain?" Hopefully, only the quietness of the forest would greet his question.

"Yes," said Fenrir. Damn, no such luck, thought Adam disappointingly. "I plan to stay here for awhile yet, but I'll eventually return to Britain."

"Oh yeah? When? Soon?" Ever the diplomat, Adam failed miserably at keeping the eager lilt out of his tone.

"Not as soon as I'll like," Fenrir chortled. "Only until I finish my business, which may take longer than I thought." Fenrir had no doubt that it would take longer now that Adam was thrown into the equation. Pity, because he had a feeling Adam was going to be difficult every step of the way, and so he would have to tread carefully; at least for now.

"What the hell are you doing in-," Adam twirled about, his hands widespread, almost hitting Fenrir in the process, "bumfuck Egypt anyways?" Damn was Fenrir a lot closer than Adam realized, making him immensely uncomfortable. Adam always prided himself on his alertness, but Fenrir was in a class of his own, almost like he wasn't quite human. Or maybe Adam just overestimated his own ability.

"Bumfuck Egypt?"

Swiping his hand in an offhand manner, Adam replied "It's just an expression for, you know, boondocks, boonies. You know, middle of nowhere. Tom uses that expression a lot. He's a former marine. You don't mess with him." Adam didn't know why he offered up more information than he needed to. _I mind as well tell him where I live and sleep_, Adam mentally berated himself.

"Tom? Who's he," he answered, his voice more harsh than he intended, his hand clenching slightly. Was Tom the man whose faint scent covered Adam? Who gave Adam the gun, and who Adam protected? Fenrir was surprised at the jealousy that another man's name brought about. And he didn't even know said man or his relationship to Adam.

Adam just looked at him curiously. "You got a problem with the name Tom or something? Someone named Tom beat you up? Stole something precious from you?"

"He just might," Fenrir retorted, referring to Adam being stolen away. "Or maybe I'll steal something precious away from him."

"Ooookay, whatever. You're a strange one, you know that? And you still didn't answer my question."

The question? Oh yes, his business, the reason he was here. Hmm, what to tell him? He could hardly tell Adam that he was gathering followers, other werewolves from America, for the upcoming war. That he was on Voldemort's-a man who hated muggles-side. That he killed and held a certain amount of dislike for humans himself. "I'm a man who enjoys his privacy, Adam," Fenrir said, giving Adam a pointed look.

Ya think? Someone would have to enjoy complete isolation to live here, with only the trees and wolves to keep you company. Privacy for what though, Adam wondered, miffed that Fenrir wouldn't tell him more. Meh, he's probably a serial killer anyways. "Yeah, I get that. But why here? Why not be 'private' all the way in Britain? Seriously, this place sucks."

"I don't know about that. This place does hold a certain charm," Fenrir said, looking about fondly, his eyes resting on Adam last. His gaze never leaving Adam, he said, "Certainly I'll miss it when I finally return to Britain, though I plan on taking a few…souvenirs…with me."

"Good for you, I don't really care." _How much longer until we reach my car?_ Getting impatient, Adam sped up, but was stopped short when Fenrir pulled him against his hard chest. "Hey, what did I tell you-"

"Shut up for a second," Fenrir whispered urgently in his ear, "Look over there." Cupping Adam's face, he forcibly turned it to the right, exposing the slender neck. There, on a slight rise, stood a proud wolf. Its fur was a mixture of browns, auburns, and blacks, and had intelligent yellow eyes. Smirking when Adam unconsciously backed up farther in his arms in fright, he tightened his hold, keenly aware of how petite Adam was compare to him. Fenrir nuzzled Adam's exposed neck, breathing in the fresh scent freely. Just barely, he withheld the temptation to bite down. He didn't think Adam would appreciate that very much.

"Jesus Christ, why the hell won't they leave me alone," Adam whimpered, the wolf holding his full attention. "Why did they come back?"

Laughing, Fenrir said, "That's a different wolf, Adam. It is not full-grown yet; the two other wolves were adults…and male. This one is female, and the color scheme on the fur is completely different too. You didn't notice? Your powers of observation leave much to be desire," Fenrir taunted, his lips gently tracing the shell of Adam's ear.

"Oh hell, they all look the same to me. Well, what are you waiting for? Shoot the bastard! Kill it!" Adam commanded, eyeing the wolf with hatred. The wolf gave them a final nod as if in farewell, and then disappeared. Finally becoming aware of their closeness, Adam moved away from Fenrir hastily, rubbing his ear in disgust. "They deserve to die," he whispered, an odd expression gracing his face.

All Fenrir wanted was to have Adam in his arms again, but Adam's actions shocked him. _Kill it. They deserve to die._ Sure, he could understand Adam's resentment at the wolves, they did just attacked him after all. But the hatred too, the belief that they deserved to die? And that expression, so angry, so wistful. "It's odd…most people in this town are filled with veneration for wolves. But your hatred, it seems to run deep," Fenrir commented.

"Yeah? What of it?" Adam averted his eyes and continued walking forth, surprised that Fenrir accurately read more into his gestures instead of just taking them at face value. Anyone else would've just assumed that he hated wolves for almost killing him today, never guessing the darker reason. This conversation was leading way to close Nathan, to close to how he died, and there was no way in hell that Adam would discuss that with Fenrir.

"I was hoping you would tell me why, actually," Fenrir said, the command clear in his tone, which Adam didn't like one bit.

"Weren't you there? They almost killed me today! It seems your powers of observation are lacking."

"Don't take that tone with me, boy." Fenrir roughly seized Adam's arm. "I asked you a question, and I demand an answer. Why this-this _abhorrence_ for wolves?" It didn't do well at all if Adam hated, actually hated, wolves. It would just make Fenrir's plans all the more difficult.

"Don't touch me!" Adam retrieved his arm just as roughly, and walked on, thankful that Fenrir didn't try to grab for him again. Even more thankful when he saw his car parked neatly in the glade. "I'm outta here. Hope to never see you again." Entering the car, Adam was about to close the door, but Fenrir stopped it midway.

"We will be seeing each other again," Fenrir promised, shutting the door with more force than was necessary. Adam didn't bother to dignify that with a response and drove away, without looking back.

After Adam was out of sight, Fenrir spoke, "You can come out now, Brenna."

An amused voice came from above, "Oh, that didn't go over to well…at all." Falling lightly on her feet, she approached Fenrir, her braided hair bouncing with her exuberance. "To leave on such horrible terms…so sad." Exposing her neck in submission, she waited for Fenrir to give the ok. When he did, she continued, "Those two renegades are out of our territory now; they left quickly when they saw you. Heh, your reputation precedes you. I don't think they'll be coming back for awhile now…it seemed they were only after…what's his name? Adam?"

Fenrir noticeably stiffen at that declaration, eyes still gazing thoughtfully at the spot where Adam disappeared.

"Why didn't you turn him? I thought for sure you would've."

"I'm not certain he's already been turned. I sensed it…the scent of a werewolf. It's not unlikely that he would smell of it only a few moments after being turned."

"Really? So soon after being turned?"

"Unusual, but not unheard of. But if that isn't the case…if he naturally smells that way, without being turned…you know what that means, right?"

Brenna merely shook her head. After a few minutes of silence, Brenna asked dryly, "And you're going to tell me, right?"

"But if that isn't the case…. Do you know what happens when two different werewolves turn the same human?"

"Of course! A fate worse than death…then they die."

"Well, now you have your answer…that is why I didn't turn him. Why I didn't take him."

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Woot, Woot, yay I made over 10,000 words. :)


	5. Chapter 5

"Well, now you have your answer…that is why I didn't turn him. Why I didn't take him."

"But that still doesn't explain why you didn't take him with you," Brenna went on. "Even if he was turned by those other werewolves, it was done on your territory. Plus, they left him to you, basically giving up any claim to him. It is perfectly within your right to take him. Now that you let him go…he's free game, and I hate to say it Fenrir, but you just missed your opportunity."

Fenrir studied Brenna, contemplating what to tell her. "You are young yet, Brenna. You don't understand the danger of true…temptation. Humans are frail, so very fragile. Giving the situation, one scrape, one scratch would be enough to condemn him to death…if he is already turned. And given his attitude, there is no doubt he would antagonize the pack, inevitable that there would be a scuffle. Not only would he need to be constantly supervised around the pack, I don't trust anyone but myself to do it, and I can't do that right now." He didn't tell her that he was more worried that he couldn't control himself around Adam, and not the pack.

But she was right, Adam was free game now. He had his chance to take him in, introduce him to the pack, claim him as one of his own, but he let him go. Now just any werewolf could lay claim to Adam, and there would be little he could do without starting a battle. It was somewhat risky, yes, but it had to be done. Adam survived this long in anonymity, without bringing himself to the attention of werewolves, so Fenrir was certain Adam could do so again. Perhaps. Those two other werewolves knew of Adam's existence, and Fenrir wasn't sure if they would still bother with him now that he was out of their clutches.

Adam did challenge them though, and thoroughly humiliated them in the process. It wasn't something easily forgotten. Adam, a human, got away, and their Alpha would guess what happened by scent alone; there would be nothing they could do to hide the fact. To turn someone, and to lose them to another Alpha that very same day, wasn't something taken lightly. They would likely be moved down to the status of Omega, the worse position for a werewolf. It was now a question if they dared to come back and confirm if Fenrir retrieved Adam for himself. If Fenrir was in their position, he would, so he could only assume they would do just that. Soon, they would discover Adam wasn't part of his pack, that Adam was alone, and they would search for him.

Fenrir was one step ahead of them on that at least. He knew Adam's full name and the school he went to; it would be easy to track him down, and once he did, he would make sure Adam was kept safe from any other werewolves. It would be easy too; all he had to do was to make sure that Adam bore his scent at all times and that would warn most werewolves away. Usually.

"You're probably right Fenrir, like you always are," said Brenna, breaking Fenrir away from his thoughts. "I'm sure you'll be happy to have this. Adam's scent covers it, I'm sure it is his, and it will give you a reason to see him again." Brenna took out a curious necklace that bore a Celtic symbol and the initials MC. "I found it at the fire pit."

"What do you suppose the initials stand for…whose initials are they," Fenrir asked, not really expecting an answer. He took it, finding it was a valid reason to see Adam again.

"I don't know. His girlfriend?" Brenna teased. Fenrir didn't like that explanation, but it did bring up an important question. Was Adam straight? If he was, Fenrir promised himself he would change Adam's mind. "Or maybe his boyfriend?"

"Brenna-"

"Fenrir! Ah, there you are, I looked all over for you. I have our status report ready now," a rather tall man interrupted. He was muscular, like all werewolves tended to be, but not as big as Fenrir, the Alpha. This newcomer went by the name Bisclavret, and he is Fenrir's second-in-command, his beta. He was one of the few who could look Fenrir in the eye and come out unscathed.

He glared at Brenna, silently telling her to leave immediately. Brenna averted her eyes and reverted to her wolf form, scampering away, inwardly seething at the treatment. Impressed, Bisclavret commented, "She has excellent control over her wolf for someone so young; that happens so rarely. It takes a lifetime to have such control, and that is if one is lucky. To this day, I still have trouble transforming into my wolf form without the full moon."

"Such is the power of all natural born werewolves," Fenrir replied. "Being one with their wolf side since the womb, it is only expected that they have complete mastery of it."

"Brenna…she was born from a werewolf? How am I not aware of this?"

Shrugging, Fenrir responded, "You never bothered to talk with her. Either way, it should have been obvious." Impatient now, Fenrir commanded, "The report?"

"Oh yes. We have five new allies; small packs that somehow survived on their own. They were reluctant at first, but as soon as I mentioned your name, Fenrir, they readily agreed. They want protection and in exchange, they'll do anything. I wouldn't put too much faith in them however, but it is a start. I await your command to integrate them into the rest of the pack."

"No, not yet. I want to see them personally before anything happens. Is that all?"

"Um, no. Fenrir, I figured out why we have been having so much trouble gathering allies. It is all thanks to one Alpha, whose name is yet to be revealed. He is a relatively new Alpha, but he holds much sway over the wolf populace here. As far as I know, he's been in power only a few short years, which must mean he is strong, to have the loyalty of so many wolves."

"A natural born werewolf?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything about the man. Every werewolf I've come across refuses to talk about him. For some reason, he wants to remain incognito." Wise indeed, Fenrir thought. The unknown was always more frightening, it gave him an advantage that Fenrir didn't like.

"And he opposes us, yes?"

"No, I don't think so. At least, not openly. But, he does have the loyalty of all the werewolves here; no one wants to join our cause. He must be doing a damn good job! Or maybe they fear going against him. Either way, I suggest moving to another location."

"No! Not yet." Bisclavret only raised his eyebrow in question, but Fenrir ignored it. "But I'll consider your suggestion. Dismissed!" After Bisclavret left, Fenrir examined the Celtic symbol, sniffing in Adam's scent. Soon, it would be time to pay him a visit.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Brent! You bastard, I have a bone to pick with you." Not waiting for a reply, Adam forcibly shoved Brent into the kitchen, to the dismay of the customers Brent was serving. "I almost got killed because of you," he fairly shrieked.

Brent gave Adam a look over, his smile widening. "You look awful."

"Ya think! I can't believe you. You gave me an unloaded weapon," Adam whispered angrily, in case someone over heard.

Brent blinked. "It was unloaded? Really?" Then he did his typical smirk, which made Adam hit him in response.

"Yes, it was! And I almost got killed thanks to it!"

"You're still here though. C'mon, tell me what happened," he edged on, rubbing the sore spot on his arm absentmindedly from where Adam punched. Damn, Adam wasn't holding back.

"Two wolves attacked me. They tried to eat me." As soon as he said, Adam saw the disbelief written over Brent's face. Then Brent had the gall to laugh.

"Nice one, Adam. But can't this wait until my break?"

"Brent, I'm serious! They really attacked me."

"You're-you're kidding-kidding, right?" Brent only laughed harder causing Adam to hit him fiercely again. Brent held up his hands in surrender, "Ok, ok, I'm done laughing," only to have a few chuckles escaping his lips. "Tell me what happened."

"I just did, Brent!"

"Ok, even if wolves did attack you…how did you escape?" Brent asked, his face scrunched up in effort to hold back his laughter. "Do you know how absurd this sounds?" Brent asked, giving a hearty guffaw.

"It's not funny Brent! And you could ask the creeper that saved me. I'm not 'kidding' you, Brent." Something in Adam's face must've convinced Brent because he stopped laughing. "I almost died because of you."

"Sorry, I didn't know it was unloaded. My dad must've taken the bullets out; he doesn't believe in guns. But do you know how ironic this is? After our conversation last night?" Brent barely held in his mirth, until Adam chortled, then he let it all out. "Man, Adam, you have the worse luck."

"Tell me about it. I was stuck up in a tree for the longest time, until this weird guy scared the wolves away. He's a real creeper."

"You were stuck up in a tree…hahahaha." It took a good minute for Brent to calm down enough to ask, "And what was the creeper's name?"

Adam, about to tell him, stopped. A guy named Fenrir, saving him from wolves…he didn't think Brent would be to handle the irony in that, although he wasn't sure if Brent knew his Norse mythology. He didn't risk it; chances are Brent would think Adam was joking about the whole thing if he did. "I don't know his name, but he was creeeeepy. I think he was gay, he kept touching me."

"Oh Adam, I can always count on you to make the day interesting. Are you going to take your shift?"

"Nah, you owe me. I almost got killed in case you fail to realize. Every time Jacob isn't going to be around, you will take my shift if you can. And as soon as I think of something else for payback, I'll let you know."

Expecting Brent to argue, Brent surprised Adam when he only nodded and said, "Stay away from wolves and gay men, I have work to do." He left, giving one last wave. It was telling how guilty Brent must've been feeling for him to agree without argument. Though, that didn't stop Brent from chuckling on his way out of the kitchen.

It was one of the things Adam liked about Brent. He didn't usually come right out and said sorry, he did it through actions. He would still be an asshole about it, to be sure, but it didn't matter because Adam was never uncertain that he was sorry.

Climbing the steps that lead to the apartment above slowly, Adam realized that how tired he was. He was going to take a nice long nap but first things first. Passing Nathan's old room on the way, he entered it with every intention of putting the necklace on Nathan's dresser until he became aware that he didn't have it anymore.

Thinking hard and apprehensively, he tried to figure out what could have happened to it. He knew he was holding when the two wolves tried to kill him, but he didn't remember what happened to it after that, so many other things were going on. Groaning, he finally decided that it was still at the fire pit. That meant he would have to go back, and he wasn't looking forward to that.

_Sorry Nathan, you're just going to have to wait._

Aside from a thin film of dust that covered everything, Nathan's room was just as it was the day he died. Neat and orderly, not an object was misplaced. Trophies lined the wall, sports paraphernalia occupied their own corner, pictures lined the wall, and the bed was neatly made. Yes, the golden child of the Callaghan family, perfect and pristine, loved by all.

How could Adam ever hope to live up to his memory?


	6. Chapter 6

Scanning the many trophies, he saw that some were from football, swimming, hockey, and baseball. Others were purely academic; anything from winning an essay contest to achieving first place in the science fair. Others yet were from doing voluntary community service. Nathan gave a whole new meaning to well-roundness.

The perfect son.

Not for the first time, Adam felt the need to destroy all those trumpets of triumph, the constant reminder of his brother's superiority. There were too damn many of them anyways. But he restrained himself out of respect for his brother's memory. Respect…and admiration. Coming towards the bed, he smoothed out imaginary wrinkles, and then buried his head in Nathan's pillow, inhaling the scent.

Frowning, he found that Nathan's scent was long gone. He remembered how when Nathan first died he would come in here and encase himself in the sheets and eventually fall asleep. Somehow, when he was surrounded by Nathan's scent, it was almost like Nathan was alive again, almost like he was comforting him. And upon first awakening, disoriented, he could almost convince himself Nathan wasn't gone. Shaking his head, he moved along the perimeter of the room as he examined countless pictures. Pictures of Nathan, of their father, of Nathan and him. One in particular brought a merry smile to his face.

It was when Nathan borrowed his friend's motorcycle, for whatever reason, and Adam was riding behind Nathan on it, his arms wrapped around Nathan in a near death grip. Nathan, not warning Adam beforehand, performed a wheelie, to the immediate distress of Adam. After that, Adam never went on a motorcycle again, much to the amusement of Nathan. Good times, good times.

He next came upon a picture of Nathan and his girlfriend. Adam never thought she was all that good looking, but she was nice from what he remembered. He was horrible to her though, like any younger brother would be to someone who took their big brother away. Nathan and her were becoming inseparable, his brother no longer spending as much time with him, and Adam would get jealous. Inspecting the picture again, he noticed how at ease his brother was with her, how he tenderly held her against him. She was looking up at Nathan with adoration in her eyes. He wondered if they were closer than he realized, and then kind of regretted that he never tried to get to know her.

Continuing on he came to the last photo. It was a family photo, taken shortly after he was born, and it was the only photo he ever saw of his mother. She was a beautiful woman, with a wavy black hair and fair skin like Adam's. She had intense brown eyes like one of Nathan's eyes. Her full lips were widely smiling, and in one arm she carried baby Adam as she sat in a chair, her other arm enclosing Nathan close to her. Young Nathan had his arms hugging her shoulders and his father, healthy looking and lively, had his muscular arms encircling the whole family. He too was smiling widely, a man completely different from the one Adam knew. They looked like a strong happy family, the kind were you would think nothing could go wrong, nothing could break they them apart.

_How did it come to this? _

His brother dead, his dad a lifeless drunk, and his mother just simply gone. What went wrong? Looking closer at his mother, he again wondered why she left them. She appeared like she couldn't be happier, completely satisfied with her life, and she lovingly held him and Nathan like she couldn't bear to be parted. So why did she leave? What kind of woman was she, to leave her own children and loving husband for another man? He would never know, he realized.

"What are you doing in here?" his father's gruff voice asked, accusatory. Startled, Adam faced the doorway, seeing his father standing there, a beer in his hand. He stumbled in, not completely sober, his face red. With anger or alcohol, Adam didn't know.

"I was just looking," Adam said, his tone placid, trying not to anger his father.

His father came towards him, and Adam moved quickly out of the way, afraid he might get violent. His father only looked at the photo, an odd expression coming over his face, bereaved and full of nostalgia. Turning towards Adam, his face harsh once more, he said callously, "She left because of you. Shortly after you were born, she left. And it's all _your_ fault. You know what she told me before she left? That she couldn't handle you, that she never wanted another child in the first place! She hated you! That's why she left." It wasn't so much the words his father spoke, but the utter sincerity in which he spoke them that hurt Adam.

But that didn't make…sense. Shocked, he glanced at the photo again, feeling certain that his mother held him with love. But it was a photo, only capturing one aspect of the story, the thin veneer people choose to show, and Adam was never good at reading body language.

His father ranted on, "All your fault that Nathan is dead. All your fault this family is ruined!" He pushed Adam away roughly. "Get out! I don't want to see you in here again, desecrating Nathan's glory."

Adam didn't need to be told twice. He ran to his room and slammed the door, crashing on his bed. Breathing heavy, he pounded the pillow a couple times, drops of wetness falling down on his arm. It took him a moment to realize he was crying, actually crying. Holding in a sob, he tried to calm himself. His mother hated him? He was the reason this family was so broken, beyond repair? Believing that there was some truth to what his father said, another sob escaped his lips. Why else would his father give him such a hard time for all these years if there was no truth to what he said?

Especially about Nathan.

If he hadn't been so damn selfish, if he hadn't been so damn angry, if he hadn't said those damn words…so many ifs. One thing was certain: Nathan could still be alive if it weren't for him.

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When Adam awoke, it was completely dark and the sound of a siren was fading away. He assumed that's what woke him. He felt emotionally exhausted, numb to the world, a feeling he didn't like. He gazed at the clock, trying to comprehend what it was saying. 10:00. Brent should be closing up. Walking down the stairs to the restaurant below, he found Brent picking up the last of the chairs and placing them on the table.

He quickly sat on the last one before Brent got to it, surprising Brent somewhat.

"Yo Adam. What's up? Where have you been this fine evening," Brent asked in his cheery voice.

"Sleeping." Adam said, his voice expressionless. He almost regretted coming down in the first place; he just wanted to go back up and sleep away his problems.

"Tom, that jarhead, he's a real asshole. I don't why you call Jacob the Tyrant; Tom is much worse. Barking out orders and always insulting my intelligence. I hate that he gets right up in your face and screams shit at you. Shit! I swear, he was a drill sergeant, he had to have been! The first thing he said to me when I walked in was, 'You know, that's about as wrong as two boys dry humping in front of the White House.' Or something to that effect. Granted, I was drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette…and I just got done serving somebody. But still, who says that?"

"Dunno," Adam said, not really paying attention.

Brent looked at Adam searchingly, sensing how subdued Adam was. He was too quiet, and Brent didn't like how Adam's expressionless expression didn't change during the story. He didn't know what happened from the time he last talked to Adam, but he wanted to bring a smile to Adam's face before he headed out. "Hey, I got five new numbers, all from the lovely chicks who frequent the Wolf's Lair. And the tips? Damn! I never knew being a waiter could be a brilliant way of picking up girls and making good money. I should do this more often." He pulled out of his pocket a couple of napkins and a few receipts, each with a name and number on them. Adam stayed quiet, seemingly lost in his own thoughts so Brent shoved the numbers in his face. "Lets see. Who shall I call first? Hmm, Stacey is too skinny. Cindy is too fat. Becky has man hands."

"Watch Seinfeld much? You're as bad as them." A weak smiled snuck its way on Adam's face. It was something, but Brent wanted more.

"Hey man, don't hate. I have standards! Xiao though, she was hot! There's just something about Asian girls that turn me on like nothing else. Especially when they're in school uniforms." Brent shuddered in pleasure, Adam looked on in disgust. "And she had an identical twin sister! Maybe I can convince them to have a threesome with me?"

"Brent, you're disgusting. Pervert. Anyways, did you say Xiao? She goes to my school, and she's like…fifteen. Maybe sixteen."

"Are you serious? She told me she was eighteen. Damn, it's so hard to judge their age, they all look young no matter what their age is. Damn, I hope I age that gracefully. Well, she's off the list completely; I have no desire to go to jail." Not even looking at it, he threw her number in the trash. Continuing on, he said, "Trish…eh, she's doable. And last of all, Amy. She's doable too. So who to pick? Trish or Amy? Amy or Trish? Hmm. Amy is better looking, but she is…boring."

"Brent, you're hopeless. Simply hopeless."

"Trish it is! I'll call her tomorrow. And if that doesn't work out, or even if it does, I'll call Amy. She'll bore me, though, I can tell already."

"Brent, you have to be the biggest man whore I know," Adam said, finally smiling.

"There, I got you to smile, my job here is done." Bowing, Brent exited the room. If nothing else, Adam could always count on Brent to cheer him up.

Before Brent left completely from his sight, Adam called out, "Aren't you going to mop the floor?"

"Fuck no! It's not that bad." Standing from the doorway, Brent turned around, and told Adam, "Oh yeah, there was this weird guy asking about you. He wanted to talk to you, said it was really important. But he had really creepy eyes, like a cat's, and he didn't take to disappointment very well. Hell, he followed me into the kitchen. Good thing Tom was there though. Ha, Tom, he can kick anyone's ass. But yeah, be careful Adam."

Adam heard the door shut, signaling Brent's exit from the building. A man asking after him…could it be Fenrir? Fenrir did, after all, promised to see him again. But so soon after meeting him? Hell, it couldn't be that easy to track someone down. Then again, Wolf's Lair was pretty well known in this town, and so was Adam himself, though he didn't know it. It was a small town however, one that hated outsiders, so no one should willingly give up information about its inhabitants.

But Fenrir was an intimidating man, one that demanded obedience, so it wouldn't be all that surprising if someone told him where Adam lived. Shivering, all of a sudden Adam felt like he was being watched. What the hell did that man want anyways? He didn't like how Fenrir had looked at him, like he some kind of prey to be taken, and how Fenrir had a penchant for touching him. Adam hated when anyone, let alone a stranger, touched him. He wondered if the touching was a means to intimidate him, or if it was because Fenrir simply wanted too. He didn't like the second reason…Fenrir had to be just trying to bully him, and touching him was just a means to an end.

But why come after him? He was either a very vindictive man or just plain weird. Adam would go with vindictive. He did trespass Fenrir's property and then tried to lie to him, and Fenrir seemed the type who didn't tolerate lying. Fenrir was probably trying to teach him a lesson, and would leave him alone once he taught it. But if it was for another reason Fenrir came after him…augh, it did him no good trying to analyze the man. Vindictive he could handle; weird he couldn't.

Trying to forget about the man, Adam reentered his bedroom. Adam decided he could study for his test tomorrow to put the crazy man out of his mind. It was a good thing Clara took down notes for him because he would never bother with it himself. Hell, most times he didn't even show up for class. The test was on all the major Gods from various mythologies: Greek/Roman, Norse, Egyptian, and Babylonian. Greek, Roman, and Norse were standard; but the class voted for Egyptian and Babylonian. He didn't know why…he would've chosen Chinese or Hindu mythology himself, but he skipped that day.

Tiamat, Apsu, Ea, Marduk…who cares about them. Adam read on, Fenrir completely out of his thoughts. Greek/Roman…everyone knew about them. Every year since he started high school, he learned something about them. No need to study them. Ra the sun god; Hathor the goddess of feminine love, motherhood, and joy; Anubis, god of the dead; Set, god of chaos…etc, etc. Adam didn't care to read about them anymore. Moving on to Norse, he read about Odin, Thor, Loki…and Fenrir.

_Fenrir, the monstrous wolf, foretold to kill the god Odin, was the son of Loki._

Reading ahead, determined to forget about Fenrir, he read about Tyr, god of war, who was eventually replaced by Odin.

_Fenrir was the one to bite off Tyr's hand._

Ok, Adam thought, can't read about Tyr. He skipped to the events Ragnarok, the end of the Gods. Thor kills Jormungandr, the serpent, but is eventually killed off from the poison. _Sucky way to go_. Tyr and Garm fight and kill each other. Heimdall and Loki kill each other._ Ok, got it._ The fire giant Surtr will kill Frey. _Who kills Surtr? And what about Freya, Frey's sister?_Adam read on, deciding he didn't really care.

_Fenrir, after a long battle with Odin, eventually swallows him…_

Adam throws the notes across the room in frustration. How can he forget about Fenrir when every note reminds him about it? It's obvious the fates conspire against him. Fuck it! He didn't care if he failed or not. It wouldn't be the first time, if he did. Turning around, he attempted to sleep again.

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Liv, your reviews always give me motivation to continue. Thank you!

Just out of curiosity, if you were to guess my age, what would it be? A friend of mine said I wrote like a fourth grader, and well, that kinda hurt. I'm just wondering if my writing is really that bad.


	7. Chapter 7

"Adam? You actually decided to show up…and you're early. Impressive! Are you ready for that test?" Clara asked as she shook Adam, whose face remained buried in his arms. They were the only ones in the classroom it being fifteen minutes before it started.

Adam peeked at Clara, at the clock, then hid his head in his arms again. "Go away," his muffled voice said, with all the intention of resuming his sleep.

"Adam, please tell me about Ragnarok."

"Don't know, don't care."

"Aphrodite was the goddess of?"

"Hatred."

"…Mars was the god of?"

"Love."

"Now you're just messing with me! I'm serious Adam, how well did you study?" Clara was the more responsible one, but you couldn't tell from looking at her. She wore an intricate corset, a leather skirt covered in chains that came to mid-thigh, and striped gloves that went just above her elbow. Similar to Gothic style, but instead of dark, brooding colors, they were bright and buoyant; almost like she was saying 'fuck you' to the Goths of the school. Not that Adam blamed her, they did reject her friendship.

"If you fail this test, I'm afraid you'll fail the class."

"Who cares?"

"I do! And you should too. You'll-"

Students trickled into the classroom, their chatter interrupting Clara. Bits and pieces of their conversation floated towards them. They were debating about which was the better mythology, Greek or Norse. Greek seemed to be winning, and Adam, belligerent as always, played the devil's advocate.

"Greek mythology is filled with a bunch man whores." They students eyebrows raised, surprised that the usually quiet Adam was speaking, so he commenced after a pause. "C'mon, at least Norse mythology was surrounded by warfare and warriors; their whole lifestyle was based on that. They had character! Greek mythology is all about 'love and happiness.' _Boring. _Siegfried, Beowulf; they were interesting to read about. Odin, he cut out his own eye to gain wisdom and hanged himself to gain knowledge. He also had the eight legged horse, Sleipnir. That's pretty bad-ass. And Zeus, what was he know for? Impregnating every female who crossed his path."

"Duh, that's why Zeus is known as the Father of the Gods," a student retorted. "If it wasn't for him, they wouldn't have Greek mythology, and I don't see how you can fault him for that."

"I'm just saying there's nothing special about Zeus. At least Odin was also known as the god of Thought and Logic as well as war, magic, and a host of other things I don't remember."

"What would _you_ know of Thought and Logic, Adam," another student snapped.

"As for Zeus being 'bad-ass,'" the first student argued, "He had Hephaestus beat him over the head with a sledgehammer to cure his headache."

"He still married his sister. His _sister_. Tell me you guys don't support incest."

"I don't think the Greeks meant Hera was literally his sister. What about Odin, though? He was swallowed by the wolf Fenrir. Zeus doesn't die."

"Screw Fenrir," muttered Adam. "It still doesn't change the fact that a day of the week, Wednesday, is named after Odin." Seeing the confused looks on the students, he explained, "Odin is also known as Woden or Wotan. In essence, Wednesday translates to 'Odin's day.' Tyr is named for Tuesday, Thor for Thursday, Frigg for Friday, Sol for Sunday, Mani for Monday. Do you see a pattern here? Yep, they're all _Norse_ gods."

"What about Saturday? Oh yeah, it's named after Saturn," one student countered.

"Your point? Saturn is a Roman god, not Greek and that's one day out of seven. Norse still wins."

"Well, what about Hercules? Jason? The Trojan War? You act as if Greek mythology doesn't have heroes or warfare," some random student spoke up.

"Pff, the Trojan War was based on some slutty bitch that left her nine year daughter, Hermione, for another man," said Adam with a hint of bitterness.

"Hey, that's only in some versions-"

"Either way, she started a ten year war. She could have easily stopped it, but she didn't. Jason, as great as he was, died because he cheated on his wife, Medea. The Gods were angry that he broke his promise to her so they killed him off. Pathetic way to go. And don't even get me started on Oedipus. Like I said, Greek mythology is just full of whores."

"What about Heracles? The Theban Cycle? And Odysseus?"

"Odysseus…C'mon. He was one of the worst. The reason his journey home took ten years was because he spent a year fucking Circe and anther seven screwing Calypso. And Penelope was dumb enough to wait for him."

"Wait, why are you dissing Penelope for being faithful after hating the Greeks for being whores? Your debating skills suck, Adam."

"I have nothing against Penelope, I'm just saying that Odysseus didn't deserve her; he was the one who was unfaithful, and she waited on him for nothing. As for the Theban Cycle…don't even get me started on Oedipus."

"And Heracles?"

"Alright, the Greeks do have a couple good stories, a couple of good heroes, I'll give them that. But only a couple and that doesn't change the fact that the Norse gods could totally obliterate the Greek gods in seconds. End of story."

"Alright, time for the test. Faces forward, and no copying," the teacher shouted, ending the debate real quick.

"Hmm, I guess you did study," Clara whispered to Adam, impressed.

"Um, Clara? Do you have an extra pencil?"

"I always have an extra one for you. You're never prepared."

The teacher, noticing the whispering, warned, "Adam, I better not catch you cheating!" She turned around, passing out the rest of the tests.

"Oh Adam?" murmured Clara.

"Yeah?"

"Good luck! Please don't fail on purpose."

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"Hmm, I think you got most of the questions right. I can't believe you confused Jupiter with Saturn. Jupiter is the Roman equivalent of Zeus and Saturn is Cronus." This had been going on for quite some time; Clara asking questions from the test, and Adam answering them.

"It was because someone said Saturday was named after Saturn. Since Zeus defeated Cronus, I thought Saturn was Zeus," shrugged Adam.

"Other than that, I think you did well. What did you say about Tiamat?"

"She is a goddess associated with Chaos…and the sea?"

"Yes, she is considered the embodiment of Chaos and is sometimes represented by a sea serpent. Her name also means 'sea.' Yep, I think we got all the questions. You should get an A. Do you need a ride home?"

"Nah, I'll walk…or run. Depending on how I feel in five minutes."

"Ok, I'll see you later," said Clara, walking towards the parking lot.

"Aaaaaaadddddammmm, hold on a second," yelled a student that Adam didn't know the name of. He might've been new, but Adam didn't know for sure. Didn't really care either.

"Beat it kid, you're bothering me."

"Adam, Adam, Adam. We need you, the team needs you. You're one of the best! Please join the track team again. We all want you back."

"Yeah, that's real great and all, but no thanks. I got better things to do."

The kid's face contorted in anger and he snapped, "Like failing everything? They say you're not going to graduate high school, that you'll turn out to be a bum on the street. I bet they'll vote you for 'Most Unlikely to Succeed.'"

"You know, shut up. What the hell do you know?"

"Probably more than you," mumbled the student, disappointed. "We're better off without you anyways, you're not exactly reliable. At least we know for sure you're not going to show up."

"Yeah, you got that right, but I can still outrun any one on the team. Now beat it." This time the kid listened and left fuming.

This wasn't the first time someone came up to him about rejoining the track team, and Adam was certain it wouldn't be the last. He was one of the better ones on the team, one of the few who could run long distances in addition to sprinting. He just hoped that the track team wouldn't go to more unsavory methods in order to get his cooperation. They already slashed his tires last week, a fact he couldn't prove try as he might and also the reason he was walking to and from school now.

It seemed easier to just join and give everyone peace, but Adam wasn't like that. The more they tried to get him to join, the more he was disinclined to do it. If it wasn't for the coach, he might've stayed in the first place, but it was the main reason he was reluctant to join again.

Getting bored with walking, he used his one skill to the fullest. It seemed like a long time since he last ran even though it was only two days ago. Since he quit the track team, he hadn't been running as much, once every couple days, if that. But it's not like he needed much practice, running came as easy as breathing to him. Must be because ever since he was little, he was always running away from something.

"Hey kid, slow down. Can you tell me where the Wolf's Lair is?" asked a young man wearing sunglasse from within a snazzy car. Adam disliked when people wore sunglasses; you could never tell if they were looking at you or not.

"Yeah, it's just a block away. Go straight, then turn right."

"Thanks, you're a real life saver, kid. I hear good things about that diner, everyone's been recommending it."

"That's nice."

"Is it as good as they say?"

"Better." No need to turn off a potential customer.

"I've been craving raw meat like nothing else. You ever get that feeling?"

"No…can't say I've had."

"I use to wear glasses, but my eye sight is getting better each day. Never seen anything like it, literally. My hearing is getting better too. Have you ever heard of that happening to anyone?"

"Um, no."

"I also use to be the scrawny kid on the block that every one picked on, now I'm gaining muscle easily. I don't even work out. It's the weirdest thing. You know what I mean?"

"Look, I'm not a doctor so I don't get why you're telling me this." This guy clearly had issues. "If you got a problem, talk to someone who cares."

"Careful kid, you don't want to piss off the wrong person."

"Pff, I have, many times. It isn't anything new. C'ya." Reaching the Wolf's Lair, Adam escaped from the strangest conversation he ever had. What is with people these days? The Wolf's Lair wasn't all that crowed, only a couple people were eating, and some were at the bar.

But one person caught his attention right away. Fenrir, standing there in all his glory, looking out of place among the dinginess of the diner. He had forgotten how big Fenrir, how his muscles could probably crush anything, how powerfully he was built. Their eyes locked, battling, before Adam's averted them. Maybe he didn't see me, Adam thought, but that was ridiculous. It was apparent Fenrir spotted him, as apparent as it was that Fenrir came to see him.

Fenrir swagger towards Adam, smirking, eyes intense. Maybe Adam could pretend he didn't see Fenrir. Yep, he was going to try that. Twirling around like nothing happened, he smashed into the guy he met earlier. It was true, the guy was muscular, but nothing compared to Fenrir's strength.

"Where do you think you're going, kid," the man inquired, reaching up to hold Adam in place. "I'm not done talking with you."

_Grr, what is with people touching me? _Irritated, Adam swatted the man's hands away like bothersome bugs. "Do you think I care?"

The man only stepped closer, raising his hand to caress Adam's cheek. "You will. Maybe not today, or tomorrow. But you will." Stroking his finger down Adam's jaw line, he paused, "You resemble him a lot, you know?"

Adam turned his head away from the offending hand, "Don't touch me! Resemble who?"

"Why don't you come with me and find out," the man said, placing an unwelcomed hand on Adam's shoulder.

"Is there a problem here?" Fenrir asked, his tone dominating, eyes fasten on the hand that rested on Adam's shoulder.

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Thank you so much, Liv and Purpleteddy, for your support!!!!!


	8. Chapter 8

"_Is there a problem here?" Fenrir asked, his tone dominating, eyes fasten on the hand that rested Adam's shoulder. _

"Yeah, there is, and it's getting worse," Adam said, glaring at Fenrir. He shoved the hand off, and walked away. At least, he tried to get away, Fenrir just placed his own hand in the same spot the man had laid his. "Fenrir, you got-"

"Ah Fenrir, I've heard much of you," said the man, exposing his neck in a submissive gesture. Fenrir eyes didn't soften in the slightest, his hand caressing Adam's shoulder possessively as though to erase the other man's touch.

"Why the hell are you showing off your neck like that?"

"I see you haven't told him anything. Tsk, tsk, not very responsible of you, Fenrir."

"What do you want?" Fenrir sniffed the area, eyes widening in surprise, his hand tightening on Adam's shoulder. "Who is your Al-leader?"

Curious now, Adam faced the newcomer fully, intent on gathering all the information he could. "Tell me what? And leader? You part of some gang or something? A secret organization?"

The man's eyes met Adam's, and Adam sensed Fenrir tensing behind him. "Something like that. Come with me and I will tell you everything you want to know. My 'Leader' is very interested in seeing you, Adam; all you have to do is come with me." Fenrir growled softly, settling his other hand on Adam's shoulder, fully placing Adam in his territory. The other man, oddly enough, exposed his neck further. "But your 'Leader' wouldn't allow that, I see."

Adam once again attempted to free himself, but Fenrir's hands wouldn't budge. Chagrin, he replied, "Leader? Fenrir isn't my-"

Fenrir wrapped a firm hand around Adam's throat, cutting off his air supply. "Adam is one of mine. Again, who is your 'Leader?' Don't make me ask you again."

"This is America, Fenrir, and you wouldn't dare attack me in polite society, not with all the risk of jeopardizing our secret. But know this Fenrir, I wouldn't dare to go against you. My Alp-Leader, on the other hand, isn't very happy with you. You're invading our territory, stealing our people away with false promises, brewing trouble within the…groups. I would advise you to leave as soon as you can. Preferably without Adam."

"Adam is _mine, _and as soon as he's ready, I'll leave, but not before then." Adam, about to speak, most likely to protest, found Fenrir compressing his windpipe, which pissed him off. Adam struggled even more as Fenrir clenched harder and harder in response. Starting to see spots, Adam soon realized there was nothing he could do against Fenrir's iron strength. Giving up, he listened with interest instead.

"He's not very disciplined, is he? Is the fierce Fenrir losing his touch?"

"Need I remind you that Omegas matter little to the pa-group? Your 'Leader' wouldn't miss you very much; I'll even venture to say you're here without his permission. Trying to save face, perchance?" Knowing Adam would keep quiet now, Fenrir soothed the abused neck causing Adam to squirm.

The other man opened his mouth, pausing, giving away his surprise. "Very perceptive, Fenrir. But you're wrong; Omegas do matter very much to my 'Leader.' You know of Remus?" Smirking at Fenrir's expression, he continued, "Ah yes, you know of him. I hear you two have a long history together."

"Remus, he's deplorable…useless even. A disgrace to everything we are," the derision in which Fenrir spoke had the other man flinching. "You would do much better without him."

"You would think so, wouldn't you? Yes, there is a certain _inadequacy_ about him, but he has information we need. And support."

"He will lead you to your deaths. He does not understand our ways, will never understand them. He has the contempt of all influential Al…leaders, all self-respecting wer-"

"Perhaps in Britain, Fenrir," he interrupted, "In America, we don't care, we don't hold much stock to those things. We take what we can get…however _deplorable_ they may be. But I would never say Remus is useless."

"Have you no pride? Do you not know what he does? How little control he has…that he'll never gain control of it?"

"Yes, we know of his…problem. But that's not what is bothering you, is it? How does it feel to have one your mistakes come back to haunt you, a constant reminder of your failure?"

Fenrir growled, warning, his hands hurting Adam in his annoyance.

"Hit a nerve did I? I hope Adam doesn't become another one. But don't worry; we'll be around to pick up the pieces." The man lightly tapped Adam on the cheek.

Big mistake on his part. Fenrir hurled Adam into the wall, and with inhuman speed and strength, pinned the man to the wall, choking him. It was a fine display of power, the man's feet hovering a few inches off the ground, Fenrir holding him with only one arm. Despite him wearing sunglasses, Adam saw true terror in the man's face, breaking him from his shock.

"Fenrir, stop! You're hurting him."

"Isn't that the point?" he snarled.

The man, his face turning purple, couldn't escape from Fenrir's hold. He thrashed about weakly, slowly losing consciousness.

"Fenrir, seriously, I think you're killing him. Stop!" Fenrir wouldn't listen, and Adam, in his desperation, flung himself around Fenrir's strong neck, choking him. When that didn't deter Fenrir, Adam banged his fists on Fenrir's muscular back, but Fenrir still couldn't be stopped.

"What the hell are you doing, Callaghan?" Yelled Tom in his powerful voice. Surveying the scene, he dryly said, "That's about as wrong as two boys having sex in church." Everyone stopped, and turned, in unison, to face Tom. "What did I tell you about starting fights in here? You know Jacob wouldn't like it, and hell, it's hard enough to deal with him on a good day."

Complete silence.

Yes, Tom had to have been a former Drill Sergeant, Adam mentally agreed with Brent.

Fenrir hands slacken in the lull, and the man, freeing himself, ran away. Plopping down from Fenrir's large back, Adam had an image of a dog running away with its tail tucked in-between its legs. Fenrir turned to face him, his eyes racking over Adam's body, lighter than from what Adam remembered. Maybe it was just the light.

Tom, convinced that the fight was over, moved into the kitchen.

"Are you fucking crazy? Or just stupid?" Adam shrieked quietly at Fenrir. "You could've killed him."

"Nonsense, it wouldn't have gone that far, but he had to know."

"Had to know what exactly? That you're freaking crazy?"

"Careful, Adam. I wouldn't want to have to do the same to you," cautioned Fenrir, his hand wrapping around Adam's throat. "He had to know I wouldn't tolerate insults, that being in 'polite society,' as he termed it, wouldn't protect him."

"You know, a normal person would've walked away. You are freaking crazy!" Adam backed into the wall, trying to gain some much need space, but Fenrir followed, his thumb stroking the side of Adam's neck. Fenrir leaned forward, lifting his other hand and setting it near Adam's head, trapping Adam between him and the wall.

"I'm not a normal person, Adam, and soon you'll realize that."

"Oh, I've already realize that, a long time ago actually. Like, the first time I met you. Are all you Brits like this?"Adam backed further into the wall, wishing it would let him pass through, or swallow him whole. It didn't. Stupid wall.

"This has nothing to do with me being a 'Brit,' my pup."

"What did I tell you about calling me your pup? And will you stop touching me!"

"You are in no position to make demands," smirked Fenrir, pausing for dramatic effect, "my pup." He lean in, his face mere inches from Adam's, and gradually inched closer. His eyes, becoming even brighter, stared at Adam's lips.

Adam turned his head to the side. He would've fought back, perhaps attacked Fenrir, but he knew it was useless. Fenrir did almost kill a full-grown, muscular man with one arm, and Adam, fighting everyone and everything since he was little, knew when he was beaten.

"Do you fear me?"

"You almost killed a stranger, could crush me like a soda pop can…what the hell do you think?"

Fenrir backed away, frowning. "Very wise, my pup."

Adam wasted no time in moving toward the exit, eyeing Fenrir, wary. Again, he felt that pull, the same one he had when he first met Fenrir; that need to obey him. Unnatural. Shivering, Adam stepped closer to the doorway.

"Who are you?"

"I'm sure you have many questions-"

"Ya think?"

"But you're going to have to wait…we've been strangely fortunate."

"We?"

Fenrir didn't get a chance to explain. Tom shouted from the kitchen, "Callaghan, why aren't you changing in your uniform? Your shift started half an hour ago. You're lucky Jacob isn't here yet."

"Oh shit! Listen, I don't know what's going on, but I don't want any part of it. Stay away from me, Fenrir." Adam high tailed it to his room to change, for a moment completely forgetting about Fenrir and the fight.

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What was going on?

Theories, half formed, flurried about in Adam's head like a raging snowstorm, chaotic, jumbled. He had been at it for a few hours now, and he still couldn't come with an answer. The unknown man, his leader, Remus. Those groups they talked about.

Fenrir.

Who were they, really?

The man had said his leader was interested in meeting with Adam, for whatever reason. _But why? What was so damn special about me, anyways?_ He was an average kid, who worked and slaved away for a tyrant, who practically botched up high school. Whose only hope in succeeding in life was a declining diner, no thanks to Jacob.

A loser.

The only answer he could come up with was because of Fenrir. They did know Fenrir, even if Fenrir claimed he didn't know them. From what Adam could gather, there appeared to be some kind of rivalry going on between them and, for some reason, Adam now seemed to be the center of it. He wondered if it was because of Fenrir's recent attentiveness to him that these other people were now after him. It made sense if they were seeking revenge, and if they thought he was important to Fenrir that they would come after him.

Easily rectifiable too. He would just have to tell Fenrir to back the fuck off if he came around again. And if that other man came, he would calmly explained to him that he didn't know Fenrir, and he wasn't apart of whatever game they were playing.

Yes, that should work. Maybe. If it didn't, he would think of something else.

And who the hell was Remus?

"Hey, waiter. Waiter! I ordered lemonade, not water," a disgruntled customer called out.

There goes another good tip, huffed Adam. Adam didn't feel like dealing with people, much less unsatisfied ones, to begin with, and this was his third mistake in the past hour. The previous customers hadn't even left a tip. Stingy bastards.

"Do you serve cheese sticks?"

Can you not read the menu? "Yes, ma'am."

"Alright, I'll have a cheeseburger. Without the bread. And no lettuce, or tomato, or pickles."

Because that's makes a whole lot of sense. What about the cheese sticks? "Sure, ma'am. Whatever you want."

Adam slugged back into the kitchen, noticing that a family's meal was ready to be served, and walk right back out with it.

"Are you getting my water-I mean lemonade? And I need salt and pepper."

Adam acknowledged him, showing he understood, and passed out the entrees to the big family next to him.

"Why are you serving those people now? I gave you my order first. It's because I'm black, isn't it? You're racist!"

What? Where the hell did he reach that conclusion?

"Will you shut up for a minute, I'm just trying to do my job," said Adam, losing his patience. "If you got a problem with me, you can just leave."

He didn't wait around to see the customer's reaction, walked right on out of the back door. It was time for a five minute break anyways. Or twenty minute.

He simply wasn't a people person even at the best of times, and the complaining customers weren't helping. In fact, they were driving him insane. He couldn't wait until he took Jacob's place as manager, then he wouldn't have to deal with the stupid customers and their insipid comments. Ten months. That's all it took. Ten months and he'll be eighteen. It wasn't that long, he could do it. He waited four years already, ten months was nothing. Who was he kidding? He'll probably be dead by then. Death by dimwitted customers.

God, he needed a cigarette. Badly. He never carried them on him because he would be tempted to smoke them too much, and smoking was detrimental to his running ability. He only smoked when he was really drunk and when Brent was around him. He just needed time to think.

Fenrir, that unstable man, what to do about him if he didn't listen. He had said the truth, Fenrir did scare him. Not only because he was ridiculously strong and fast, but because he was unpredictable. Adam never expected Fenrir to go all out and attack the other man, and then to threaten him with the same treatment, to justify it like it was the most normal thing to do.

And how the other man referred to Adam becoming another one of Fenrir's mistakes. What exactly happened between Fenrir and Remus? Shaking his head, Adam convinced himself he didn't care; he was getting out of this mess, one way or another. He promised himself he wouldn't become another one of Fenrir's mistakes, whatever that meant.

Going back into the restaurant, Adam noticed the black man had left. Fair enough. Fenrir, though, was sitting in the back, away from the rest of customers. Not fair. He refused to acknowledge the crazy man knowing that another one of the employees would take care of Fenrir.

Sighing, he continued working. He could feel the prickly sensation you get when you know someone is watching your every move, but every time he looked in Fenrir direction, he was reading the newspaper. Now, instead of messing up people's orders, he was tripping over his own feet. He almost spilled coffee over a kind, old lady thanks to Fenrir.

An hour and a half before closing, almost an eternity. He never wanted his shift to end so much. He should have called Brent over to take his shift since Jacob didn't even bother to show up. He could still call Brent up, but knowing his luck, Jacob would show up right when Brent got here. Or when Brent actually overtook his shift. Things would get ugly, then, and Adam didn't want to risk it.

When he finally met Fenrir's gaze, he flipped him the bird, earning a smirk in his direction. He only hoped Fenrir would leave when he closed up.

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Blahz: Really? Oh jeez, I don't know what to say. That's probably the best compliment someone could give me!

Sighed-anonymous: Sorry, Fenrir didn't quite wipe the floor with the guy. Hope it satisfies you that he did attack him. And thanks for the review.

Lina: I don't know how you didn't find this story before, but have no fear, I'll continue to update.

Looking glass: Thank you and kudos to you for being a mythology geek too! I try to find something interesting for the characters to say instead of, say, the rules to Truth or Dare. I don't want to bore my readers too much in the pointless dialogue.

Kaiswings: No, no I LOVE rambling reviews. Continue to ramble away, please! Personally, I thought I was making Fenrir too nice, but you'll see some of his savageness later now. But I'm glad you like him! But out of curiosity, what are your theories? I wanna see it you're right too.

Liv: You're right, that wasn't very nice of me. :P I think I'm finally figuring out the danger of leaving cliffies: the next chapter will have to be extra good lest you disappoint your readers.

A/N: Sorry to all my faithful readers, this will be the last update for awhile. I have to much going on next month to really work on this.


	9. Chapter 9

Almost been three years since I updated. Three years. Whew. I wonder if anyone still reads this...

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"We're closed. You know what that means, right? It means you need to leave. Now." Adam pushed Fenrir towards the door, but it was useless, like trying to move a tank. Fenrir wouldn't move unless he wanted too.

Everyone else was gone, leaving the clean-up to Adam. Even Tom, the one person who Adam would trust to get him out of this situation left half an hour earlier. They were alone, just the two of them. The perfect opportunity for Adam to tell Fenrir off, to tell him to stay away from him, forever. That he had no desire to be part of whatever organization, or cult, Fenrir was part of. But when he look at Fenrir, saw his strength, his overbearing height, he couldn't form the words.

Fenrir just looked on in half amusement, half enjoyment, his arms crossed. "How long are you going to insist on touching me?"

Adam, noticing the clear pleasure in his expression stopped. To cover up his sudden embarrassment, he passed a broom to Fenrir. "Well, if you _insist_ on staying, you might as well help." Fenrir smirked, taking the broom, and with measured, even strokes, starting sweeping.

Adam gaped, not expecting Fenrir's help. However, he would take any help he could get; he hated cleaning up. Shaking his head, he gathered dirty plates and glasses from the tables, his hands trembling, not knowing what else to say. Fenrir, though, didn't seem in a conversing mood either. Soon the room fell into a semi-comfortable silence, with Fenrir humming a tune unfamiliar to Adam.

It reminded him of Brent for a moment, and if he refused to glance in Fenrir's direction, he could fool himself that it was Brent, and not Fenrir, that was assisting him. It helped somewhat, but Brent's humming was annoying, often off-key, whereas Fenrir's tune was in perfect pitch and harmony. Fenrir's step was also heavier than Brent's, and every now and then, when Fenrir neared Adam, he could smell the unique scent of feral nature. It made the hairs on Adam's nape stand up.

Adam focused on the tune, allowing it to sooth away his nervousness. Although, in his mind, he would associate the sudden calmness with wiping down the tables and not with Fenrir. The two of them worked well together, no words were necessary, they did what needed to be done. After Fenrir was done sweeping, he mopped, as Adam finished wiping down the barstools.

At last drying his hands on hand towel, Adam spoke up, "Fenrir, why are you here, helping me?"

"Questioning the help? Not very wise, I may just stop and leave the rest to you."

"Oh, really? That would be great actually. I didn't want you here to begin with. No seriously, it's strange seeing you do grunt work. I would expect you had a bunch of underlings at your beck and call, as you sat on your high throne doing…whatever it is you do."

Adam didn't anticipate Fenrir's sudden bark of humor. Damnit, it wasn't his intention to make Fenrir laugh. Just the opposite, in fact. "I'm not trying to be funny…."

"Oh, I know. It's just not far off the mark." Fenrir closed the distance between him and Adam, his much larger hand encompassing Adam's to retrieve the washcloth, lingering in a caress before he scrubbed the remaining grime from the bar. "However, I never enjoyed it when everyone abandons the lone man to do the dirty work. It always left a bad taste in my mouth. Mind telling me why they leave everything to you?"

Adam quickly retreated to the other side of the bar, rubbing his hand where Fenrir had touched. "Because I'm an expert cleaning man, doncha know?" The flippant answer only caused Fenrir to raise an eyebrow, prompting Adam to continue.

"Nah, it's because of _him,_ the manager. He hates me. He knows I'll always be around so he makes sure to leave the worst to me. He hates it even more when my co-workers try to assist me, so they don't. I don't blame them. I mean, if I were them, I would leave as fast as possible too. You don't want him catching you around when you're not supposed to be here. He would just put you to work, even if there's nothing to be done. Or make you redo everything again. Hell, the last time that happened, he made us cleaned the bathrooms with only a toothbrush. Kept us here an extra two hours and without paying us for overtime. The other guy quit right after that. And the manager, he just keeps pulling the same shit."

"Sounds like someone needs to be put him in his place." Fenrir cracked his knuckles, an eager grin on his face.

Somewhere inside, Adam knew Fenrir wasn't joking, but he couldn't help returning the grin, just for a moment. But then he remembered who he was talking to and what happened earlier that day. He didn't know what Fenrir was capable of, didn't want to find out, and here he was telling him his whole life story. He needed to get out of here, and quick. Or preferably for Fenrir to leave.

Hoisting two full trash bags up, without a word, Adam left for the dump just outside the back door. He hoped Fenrir would be gone by the time he came back. Taking a breather, he was glad to notice that Fenrir didn't follow him at least. But like everything else that day, things just didn't work out in his favor. By the time he came back, Fenrir was still there sitting, legs raised up on a table, acting for all the world like he owned the place.

"A man just walked out the front door. Was that the manager?"

Unconsciously, Adam touched the fading bruise on his face. And said, not without a certain amount of bitterness, "My dad."

Fenrir surged forward, but his hand was light as he touched the healing skin. "And this? I wondered about it…"

"It doesn't matter," came Adam's clipped reply.

Fenrir shifted, uncomfortable, for the first time unsure on how to proceed. "Oh, but it does." He said no more, letting an awkward silence follow.

_Fine then._ "You want to see something? Come with me." Adam led the way out of the room and up the darkening staircase, knowing the steps by heart. The only other person to ever step foot in the apartment was Brent and that was once, and only for a short time. A very short time. Brent left in a hurry that day, and Adam didn't see him for a month. Most people were uneasy with Adam's situation, and he thought he would never see Brent again after that…

"Welcome to my humble abode." Adam swept the door open, bowing Fenrir in, missing the leer on his face. He didn't miss the immediate look of disgust though, as huge whiffs of cigarettes and beer ambushed them. Feeling wickedly satisfied with that expression, he piped "Do you like it?"

The only light in the room came from the television, half hiding the grime and smashed bottles on the floor. But Fenrir didn't need any more light than that, he registered everything in an instant. Not that there was much to see. "You live here?"

"Yep, my home." Adam was tickled to see Fenrir couldn't quite keep the repulsed look from his expression, although he was trying. Adam didn't know why he bothered, unless it was some high English breeding that kept him from showing his true emotions.

"This is unacceptable. I can offer you much better than this junkyard." Fenrir hesitated, "If you would come with me, that is?"

"What the hell are you? My knight in shining armor? Oh please."

Fenrir continued, unabated, "I can offer you a home. A sparkling _clean _one. Good, home-cooked meals. Protection-"

Adam's sharp, howling laughter cut him off. "Protection? From what? Wolves? That guy from earlier? _You're_ the one I need protection from. Oh, that's very funny."

Fenrir persisted on, Adam barely hearing him through his laughter. "Oh Fenrir, just give up."

"I can offer…" Fenrir paused, and whispered, soft as a summer breeze. "A family."

Adam's laughter died on his lips, like all of a sudden someone had pressed the mute button. The stillness that trailed after became unbearable. Adam choked, "What did you just say?"


End file.
